With the Beatles
by HappyPlatypus
Summary: This is not an Across the Universe story- just Beatles. It's about a girl who goes back in time and meets the Beatles. She has a horrible life and must choose between staying with the Beatles or going back to her regular, horrible life. My first fanfic!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first fanfic, so it probably isn't very good. Please review; I could use some feedback and/or constructive criticism! If you like it, I'll upload more chapters. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Beatles. There may be some historical inaccuracies, and I apologize in advance.**

**Which reminds me, don't worry, there will be more of the Beatles in later chapters. And I know it's short. Later chapters will be longer.**

Chapter 1

My life is a disaster.

I mean, seriously, a complete disaster. First of all, my mom, the only person who ever really cared about me, died in a car accident three years ago. And my father… well, he's a really smart scientist who is horribly cruel to basically everyone he lays his eyes on. And of course, there's my brother, who may or may not have mental issues. He tried to murder me once. Luckily, my mom was still alive and able to save me, although somehow my brother got off the hook because he blamed it on a dream or sleepwalking or something like that. Why is it always the bad people that are treated like, I don't know, angels or saints or something? Everybody thinks Devyn is the most perfect little 15-year-old in the history of history. He's not. I speak from experience.

Anyway, today was just an ordinary day in the fantastically horrible life of me, Evie Brown. Just another day of my horrible job as a cashier at whatever that little store is on the corner. I don't even know the name. I don't even care. I'd rather be in college, but my dad refused to pay, and I'm not good enough at anything to get a scholarship. So I'm a twenty-year-old cashier with a dead mother, a horrible father, a mental brother, and the one thing that keeps me from losing the will to live: the Beatles. It's a bit of a secret obsession. And that brings me back to my horrible day at work.

You see, everybody I know seems to think the Beatles were the worst people to ever inhabit the Earth. My boss in particular. So when he found out I was listening to the Beatles on my iPod whenever I wasn't helping a customer, he flipped. He threatened to fire me if I ever showed up at work again with anything- not just the music, _anything_- Beatles-related.

Like I said before, my life is a disaster.

So now it's 11:17 at night, and I'm trying to fall asleep. Sleep- when it's dreamless- and the Beatles are the only means of refuge I have from my disastrous life. And I know that refuge is waiting for me, if only I could fall asleep. Grr…

After what seems like hours of counting sheep, but was probably only minutes (I'm too tired to look at the clock and comprehend what it says), I finally fall asleep. But just before I do, I whisper something to myself:

"If only I weren't me. If I had a different life, in a different place, in a different time, then everyone would be happy…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's Chapter 2! It might be slightly wordy. Sorry. It'll get better, I promise. Enjoy it as much as you can, and please review! **

Chapter 2

When I wake up, it's still pitch-black outside, and the clock says it's 3:24 in the morning. Why am I awake? Nothing touched me, there aren't any loud noises, I don't need to use the bathroom… What's going on?

Suddenly, I feel wind on my face. It blows for a minute, then gets stronger, whipping my hair around. It blows harder and harder, and I have no idea why. It doesn't seem to be affecting anything else in the room, which just makes it even weirder. Soon the wind is blowing so hard that I have to squeeze my eyes shut. It keeps blowing, and I can hear it roaring and whistling. Then I feel a strange sensation, like I'm spinning around. The wind blows harder, and I spin faster and faster, and it goes on for a while, getting worse by the second.

And then it stops.

I feel extremely dizzy and nauseous, but I can still sense two things. One, it's a lot hotter than it was a few minutes ago, and two, whatever I'm sitting on can't be my bed, because it's rough and hard.

I don't want to open my eyes, because I'm afraid of what I'll see. It probably won't help with the dizziness and nausea, either. I can hear and feel, though, and I'm pretty sure I heard someone gasp.

Oh, no. Where am I?

I open one eye just the teensiest bit, and I can see a blurry image of a man staring at me, gaping. I open my one eye all the way, and then the other, and then I gasp myself.

The man I am looking at right now is none other than George Harrison.

...

What in the world just happened?

I was just leaving for the studio. Me, Ringo, Paul, and John had to record some more. I walked out the door, and I know for a fact that there was nobody in front of me.

And then, a second later, a girl appeared. I nearly tripped over her.

She was sitting cross-legged on the ground with her eyes closed, like she had been there all day. But I swear she hadn't been there before. And she hadn't walked up, she hadn't fallen out of the sky, she hadn't come up from underground. She just… appeared.

And now she's staring at me like my face is bright purple or something. What's wrong with me? Is my face actually purple? I push the thought out of my mind and return to more pressing issues: What the heck is going on?

"You- you… You're George Harrison," she stammered.

Oh. She's just a fan. That's all. With magical powers, apparently.

"Um, hullo. Yeah, I'm George Harrison. Are you going to attack me like a deranged fan or not? 'Cause if you are, please tell me so I can get a head start on running."

"What? No, I'm not going to attack you. It's just- well- I really don't understand what's happening right now, and-" She tries to stand up, but she wobbles, and she would have fallen over if I hadn't helped her stand.

"Well, if you're confused," I say, "then there's _really _something strange going happening. I figured you would understand, but-"

"Me? Understand?!" she interrupts. "Why would _I_ understand when I'm the one who was asleep in bed- in the year _2013_, to be exact- and then I'm suddenly here in England in- what is it, 1964?"

I frown, even more bewildered. "'63," I correct her. "So- you're from the future? Are you sure? Am I hallucinating?"

"So this _isn't _a dream… I mean, in a dream, you wouldn't be confused too… Okay, look, George, I don't know what's going on here. All I know is that I have no money, no shelter, nothing. Nothing but my iPhone and the clothes on my back. So if you would kindly point me towards the nearest form of shelter…"

This girl has to know more than she's saying. And I intend to find out what she's hiding. "All right, just come inside, there's nowhere else for you to go, really. Come on." I go back inside, and the girl reluctantly follows.

"My name's Evie, by the way. Evie Brown. In case you were wondering." She looks slightly annoyed.

I take a deep breath and sit down on the sofa. "Evie, prove that you're not crazy or lying. Prove that you're from the future."

She takes a strange little device out of her pocket and presses a button. It lights up. "This, George, is an iPhone. The phone of the future."

"Phone, as in telephone? 'Cause that sure doesn't look like one to me." It really doesn't. It's a tiny, lit-up rectangle.

"Ugh, forget it! Just- just take my word for it for now, okay? I swear I'm not lying. And I'm pretty sure I'm not crazy."

For some reason, I find myself trying to suppress a smile. She's feisty and annoying, but it's quite amusing. "Don't get upset, Evie. I'll believe you- for now. Innocent until proven guilty and all that." Well, now what? I really should be at the studio, but I can't just leave Evie out on the street- or in my house, for that matter. "Do you, uh, do you want to come to the studio with me?"

Her eyes widen. "Really? That would be amazing!" She jumps up, all anger and annoyance gone. "Let's go!"

...

I know I should be confused and upset because of all this weirdness, but I'M GOING TO THE STUDIO WITH GEORGE HARRISON! Who wouldn't be excited? We hurry out the door, and something tells me this is going to be pretty amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's Chapter 3! It's short, but I'll try to post Chapter 4 soon.**

Chapter 3

As excited as I am, nervousness overwhelms me as soon as George and I are at the door of the studio. "Uh- um- are you sure I should be here? I mean, what if the others get upset or I mess something up or-"

George cuts me off. "It's fine, it's fine. They shouldn't be too upset, if they're upset at all. AN anyway, what was I supposed to do? Leave you on the street? In my _house_? I don't know anything about you except your name and you're supposedly from the future. Now come on."

I take a deep breath and walk into the studio after George. He leads me down a few hallways, and then we reach Studio 2. George knocks on the door, and a second later, Paul opens it. "George, where have you- uh, who's that?"

"I'm Evie Brown, from the year 2013," I say. At least, I try to say it, but it comes out as, "Glurfblurfblagablaga." My face turns red. _It's not my fault! _I think. From where I'm standing, I can see all four Beatles at once, and it's a little overwhelming. And John… wow, he looks even better in person.

John laughs. "Yes, glurfblurfblagablaga to you, too."

They all laugh, and then George introduces me. "This is Evie Brown, and apparently she has traveled here from the year 2013."

They all look at me skeptically. "Well, come in and tell us all about it," Ringo says. George and I walk in.

"So, Evie, what's 2013 like? Are we still making records?" Paul asks. At first I think he's serious, but when I see that all of them, even George- traitor- are smiling, I can tell Paul is joking. "Are we at the top of the charts?"

I bite my lip. "Um, well, no…"

"Aw, come on, why not?" John asks, as if I control what happens.

"It's not my fault!" I say indignantly. "I wasn't even alive when you broke up!"

Ringo frowns. "We're going to break up? What am I supposed to do, then? What can I do without these guys?"

I frown, remembering something I read once. "I read online that it's not good to tell people from the past about their future. It could mess up the space-time continuum or something like that."

"What's the space-time continuum? And what does 'online' mean?" Paul asks.

"Never mind. I'm just not going to talk about the future anymore. Uh, can I use the bathroom?"

George points me in the right direction, and I make a point of hurrying. After all, you always miss the most important things when you're in the bathroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it took me so long to update. I was battling that enemy we've all faced before- writer's block.**

Chapter 4

I show Evie the way to the bathroom, and then I walk back into the studio and sit down next to Ringo. I notice that John is looking at me funny, and I return the look. "What?"

"You don't see it, do you?" John asks.

"See what?"

"Her."

"Evie?"

"No, the queen. Yes, Evie!"

"Well, I don't see her now, no, but she's in the bathroom."

John shakes his head. "That's not what I mean."

"Well, then what do you mean? Quit beating around the bush!" I look at Paul for reinforcement, but he just gives me the same look John gave me.

"George, when Evie comes back into the room, take a good look at her," John says.

"Yeah, especially at her eyes," Paul adds. "They're really-"

"Strange," Ringo cuts in. "Her last name is Brown, but her eyes are green!" He looks at Paul, trying to tell him something silently, but Paul doesn't catch on.

"No, that's not what I was going to say. George, I don't know how you didn't notice that she's-"

"Really excited to be here," Ringo interrupts. "We should play her a song or something!" Then, in a not-so-quiet whisper, he says, "C'mon, Paul, I wanna see his reaction!"

"What are you talking about?" I ask, bewildered.

Just then, Evie walks into the room. John gestures for her to sit down, and Ringo nudges me. I look at her carefully.

Oh. Wow.

I don't know how I didn't notice it before. She's absolutely beautiful, with long, shiny light brown hair and bright green eyes.

And of course she seems to be immediately in love with John, who's talking with her like he's known her for years.

I don't even know what they're saying, but I interrupt. "Hey, John, how's Cynthia been?"

He glares at me, and Evie's face falls. "Oh. Right. I forgot about Cynthia."

"You know about Cyn?" John asks. "How?"

"I'm from the future, remember?"

"Prove it."

So she takes that little box out of her pocket again. "This is an iPhone." She presses a few buttons and taps the screen a few times, and with each tap, the picture on the screen changes. "Listen to this." She taps the screen again, and suddenly, Love Me Do starts playing.

"What?!" Paul exclaims. "That's not possible! Where's the record? You must be hiding it!"

She shakes her head and holds out the "iPhone," or whatever it's called. "Here, you press one."

Paul looks at her dubiously, but he gingerly reaches out and touches something on the screen. Do You Want to Know a Secret starts playing.

"You'll never know how much I really care… Listen, do you want to know a secret?" I sing. Evie smiles. "Hey, Evie, can I play with that for a while?" I ask.

She hesitates, then gives it to me. "Here. But be careful."

Time to discover the wonders of the future!

…

I talk with John, Paul, and Ringo while George plays with my iPhone. Hopefully he won't accidentally call somebody.

"Y'know," John says, "we were going to go get lunch. Maybe you could come?" He looks at me.

My eyes widen. "Um, sure! That would be great!" Lunch with the Beatles! This is going to be the best day ever!

And then George ruins it.

"Evie? What's this 'Concert for George' thing?"

Oh, no.

"And why does it say that I, um, y'know… died?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this story seems to be so cliché- girl goes back in time and meets the Beatles, girl falls in love with a Beatle and/or Beatle falls in love with the girl, Beatles discover things about the future that they shouldn't have discovered, et cetera, et cetera. I promise that only the beginning will be like this; the story will soon take steps towards originality. I'll add in some plot twists and such, so don't worry. Now, please read and review! :D Oh, and speaking of reviews, thanks to celestearts, TheLef318, and HorrorFan13 for reviewing! Wait, one more thing before you read: If you want a character in the story, PM me. Please include his/her name and descriptions of both his/her appearance and his/her personality. That's all! Here's Chapter 5!**

Chapter 5

Oh, great. Just great. What's wrong with me? Why did I let him play with my iPhone? Why did I let him find out? I should have known that this was bound to happen!

"Uh, well, you see…" I start. "George, um…" I bite my lip.

George looks at me, his brown eyes full of sadness and fear. "When? How? Am I the only one?"

I hesitate, and John glares at me accusingly. "He's not the only one, is he? Who else?"

I gulp. I can't tell them, but how can I keep it from them? Especially Paul and Ringo; they need to know they're still alive. But John and George…

I look at the ground. "Cancer. Lung cancer. From smoking. November 29, 2001. In Los Angeles, California."

"Me?" I hear George ask. I nod.

"Sh- shot," I stammer. "By Mark David Chapman. December 8, 1980. Outside the Dakota in New York City."

The room falls completely silent, and I know John, Paul, and Ringo are waiting to hear which one of them will die no older than 40 years.

I can't make myself say it. Telling George was unbearable. This is impossible.

"It's me, isn't it?" Paul asks.

I look at him. "Why would it be you?"

He shrugs. "Somebody had to say it. I guess that means it's-"

"Me," Ringo says with an air of finality. "I knew I wasn't destined to live long, anyway," he adds in an un-Ringo-like manner.

I slowly shake my head. "It's not you, Ringo," I whisper.

John takes a deep breath. "Well, that's strange. I figured they'd save the best for last," he says in an attempt at humor.

Nobody says anything for a few minutes. George finally breaks the silence with, "I'm hungry. Weren't we going to get lunch?"

Nobody replies.

"Then I'll go myself, I guess. You sure none of you want to come? It's lunchtime, y'know." He walks away.

"John's about to _lose_ his lunch! We don't want to eat!" Paul yells in George's direction. He and Ringo follow George, and I burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to tell you, b- but you asked, and… and…"

John looks at me, half-angry, half-sad. "Why are you here?"

"Because… I wished to have a different life, I guess," I reply, the realization dawning on me. "A better one. In a different time, in a different place… And you guys are my heroes," I admit. "That must've all combined into… this."

"Well, you're certainly going to have a different life. But it sure isn't going to be better."

He walks away angrily.

…

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. _That's the only thing I can think right now. Besides the fact that I'm hungry, but that doesn't matter.

Of course I knew I would die eventually. But it's horrible to know when and where and how I'm going to die.

And, despite it all, I feel bad for Evie. She didn't want to tell us, but she knew she couldn't keep it from us.

I light a ciggy absentmindedly, but then I remember what Evie said about dying because of smoking. I hurriedly put it out.

"George?"

I turn around. Evie is standing there, her green eyes shining with tears. "I'm really, really sorry. I couldn't keep it from you once you found out. That would be even worse."

"It's okay, I guess. I mean, won't it help me figure out how to stop me death from happening? And John's, too."

She nods. "That's what I thought. But John didn't, apparently. He's really mad, and he said he was going to make it bad for me here. I need to leave. It would be better for all of us."

I shake my head. "I'd miss you."

Evie smiles a little. "Really?"

"Yeah."

We just stand there for a minute in awkward silence, and then I ask, "Do you want to come get lunch with me?"

"You still want to go out?" she asks incredulously.

"Sure, why not?"

She grins. "Well, if you insist."

I write a note to the others, not wanting to face them right now- especially John. Then Evie and I leave, but not before I hear a loud boom from inside.


	6. Chapter 6

**This one took me forever to write. I am so horrible at updating. Sorry. And if the people whose characters are in the story want credits, I'll put them in the next A/N. Please PM me to tell me if you want a credit- you know who you are. (That sounds like a teacher. Sorry.) Please read and review!**

Chapter 6

Great. Just great. Without even going back inside, I know the boom must've been John knocking something over or something. Poor guy. But at least George isn't angry. Well, not as angry as John, anyway.

Anyway, right now I just want to get away. Go eat lunch with George. Ignore whatever's happening at the studio.

As we walk down the street, George trying his best to be incognito, we notice two girls staring at us. One girl appears to be a few years older than the other. She has light golden-brown hair and green eyes, and she's wearing a navy-blue-and-white-striped shirt and jeans. The younger girl has long black hair and glasses, and she's wearing a pale green shortish dress. She runs over to us, and the older girl follows.

"Oh my gosh, you're George Harrison!" exclaims the younger one. "I'm Max- short for Maxine- and I think the Beatles are absolutely amazing!"

The other girl smiles at us. "Hi. Um, I'm Celeste. I didn't want to disturb you, but Max ran over, so-"

"Oh, please, Celeste, you wanted to meet him as much as I did, if not more!" Max protests.

George looks around nervously, probably making sure no one else is going to come over here. Too many fans can be disastrous.

Luckily, it's so hot out that hardly anyone is out here. Relieved, George turns back to the girls.

"Hullo, girls. How are you?" he asks.

"Fine, fine. But how's Paul?" asks Max.

George looks at me. Uh-oh. I think I know where this is going.

"Is Paul… dead?" Celeste asks.

Mm-hm. Just what I expected.

George's eyes widen. "What? No, he- what? Why would he be…"

"We heard rumors," Max explains. She starts bouncing up and down a little. "So is he?"

George shakes his head frantically. "Not now, at least. Are you from the future?"

I laugh at that, and George smiles at me.

Celeste tilts her head a little. "No… why?"

"I am," I reply.

They look at me excitedly. "Where were you going before we stopped you? Can we come? Will you tell us about the future?" Max asks quickly.

George and I glance at each other. "Well… as long as you don't attack me, I don't see why not," George answers reluctantly.

So we start walking again, our little two-person "date" now a trip for a musician, a girl from the future, and two girls excited to meet a celebrity and a time-traveler.


End file.
